


change of heart

by nightmaresinwintah



Category: One Direction
Genre: ? - Freeform, M/M, they always find each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmaresinwintah/pseuds/nightmaresinwintah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis stopped needing each other so much. They find each other again, though. </p><p>title from change of heart by the 1975</p><p>au</p>
            </blockquote>





	change of heart

**Author's Note:**

> this is. extremely emotional to me. i felt so much of it. i have no explanation, other than the fact that i have an immense love for marina abramovic, and her and ulay inspired this a lot. um? there is no summary. i wasn't even gonna post this. all this is is emotions. it makes no sense. it makes complete and utter sense. i hope it might mean something to you like it means so much to me. i do not believe in coincidences.

It still hurts his ribs when he thinks about him. And he does. Think about him, that is. It’s been seven years since they last saw each other - since they held each other’s hands and and looked into each other’s eyes and gave each other a watery smile. He can still feel the lump in his throat when he thinks about it. They didn’t say anything - they’d been drifting apart for awhile, they both knew. They knew that their time together had come to an end, that after four years in each other’s arms they had just suddenly. Come to a stop. 

Harry’d looked down at him, brushing the pads of his thumbs over the tops of Louis’ hands and trying to hold back tears. His jaw had been wobbling, and his each thud of Louis’ heart, Louis saw that his lover, his rock, his best friend - his  _ fiance  _ \- was slowly tearing off the bandaid. It hurt them both so much. Who knows how long they stood like that, rigid and smiling softly, searching each other’s eyes for a change of heart. 

Neither found any. 

Louis was the first one to drop Harry’s hands. Louis remembered the way Harry bit his lip and nodded to himself. Louis smiled back, but dropped the smile too. Then he lifted his right hand to his left and slowly took the engagement ring off, and handed it back to Harry, who choked back a sob. 

Then they turned their backs and walked away. Louis doesn’t know if Harry looked back, but Louis didn't’t. He just walked. He eventually got on a train that took him somewhere, and he slowly moved on. He made his own adventures. He didn’t know where Harry was, who he was becoming, who he was with, what he was doing. And he thought about him a lot. They still both had each other’s contacts, but neither ever contacted the other. 

Of course, Louis found others. He made new friendships, found new souls and reconnected with old souls. He met up with Zayn once, and the artist mentioned Harry and how he’d been with him just the other month. Louis hadn’t been able to sleep right for a few days, broke up with his boyfriend a few days after that. What he and Harry had had had been beautiful, he knew. And so did everyone else. 

The only way to explain what happened to them was that they fell flat - neither of them had anywhere to go at that time, not with each other at least. It’d been mutual, sort of. Neither had wanted to break if off, but both did. They both had more discovering to do, both weren’t who they were supposed to be. So they left each other. 

They had been so connected, so in tune with each other. It had seemed like something magical - they were one, after all. They knew each other, inside and out. They  _ loved  _ each other. And it was pure. 

The many nights Louis fell apart because he was missing Harry, he never once regretted their decision. They both needed it. It was right. 

It doesn’t mean that Louis doesn’t sit in coffee shops or parks or his own home (wherever that is at the time) drowning in memories. 

*

_ “Lou? Babe, what’re you doing out here, love, you’re going to get a cold.”  _

_ Hands wrap around his waist, and Louis smiles and tilts his head back, pressing himself to Harry’s body and breathing in his warmth. They’re two stories high, out on a balcony, somewhere in Estonia. They’ve been here for three nights, maybe, they haven’t kept count. They’ve been wrapped in each other, simply breathing and talking.  _

_ “Look at the sky.” Louis breathes. _

_ And Harry looks. It’s ice blue - sharp and stunning. There are a few wisps of clouds, white shapes dancing across the sky and dipping down past the horizon.  _

_ “It’s magnificent.”  _

_ “I’d like to paint it.”  _

_ Harry slides his fingers across Louis’ ribs, smiling and tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “We have blue paint left in the duffel.” He offers, moving his hands slowly up and entwining their fingers.  _

_ Louis smiles, and brushes his thumb over Harry’s ring finger, feeling the cool metal there. He looks up at his fiance and blinks, eyelashes brushing his skin.  _

_ They spend the next hour on the floor inside, naked but for Harry’s back which is slowly being painted blue by Louis’ careful and loving brushstrokes.  _

_ They leave Estonia the next day.  _

_ * _

The memories never really cease. Here, Louis sits on the side of a fountain and twiddles his thumbs, on his lunch break from work. He’s back in England - moved here two months ago and found a place in London. Found work in a cafe not too long after, and didn’t have to dig into his savings too much. He’s not sure if the seven years have always been like this - thinking about Harry every other day. He doesn’t think they have been. Maybe it’s because he’s become lonely, lately. 

*

_ “Lou, look at this! Look at it’s leaves.” Harry gushes, his fingers reaching behind him and finding Louis’ wrist.  _

_ Louis smiles and allows himself to be gently tugged towards Harry, and finds himself gazing down at a small potted plant. “It’s beautiful, Harry.” _

_ They’re in a small flower store, but somehow Harry’s found the tiniest, plain plant with beautiful stems and white lines shooting out across the curved leaves. It has no flowers, but it’s pretty in its plainness.  _

_ “Can we get it?” It’s whispered, and Harry looks down at Louis, green eyes glowing with emotion. _

_ Louis nods, pulling out his wallet that’s secure under his jersey. He checks the price, and finds the correct amount of rupees, handing them over to the shop owner who has been hovering, watching them with an almost fond look. Louis wonders if they see the gravity between him and Harry, how they naturally gravitate towards each other.  _

_ Harry cares for the plant while they are in Sri Lanka, and then sadly gifts it to a friend they met there when they feel they need to move on.  _

_ * _

Louis wonders if the plant is still alive. Harry had named it Paeir, something he’d picked up somewhere. He stands from the fountain, and walks almost mechanically back towards the cafe, and signs himself back in, tying his apron around his waist. He takes orders, smiling and slowly becoming part of the present again. He knows that lingering on the past isn’t healthy. 

But he can’t help it when he’s in his tiny flat at night, laying in his bed in the dark and staring up at the ceiling. 

*

_ “Harry, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” _

_ “Travelling?” _

_ “No, Harry…” _

_ “Oh, Lou…” _

_ “I’m sorry.”  _

_ “Don’t be.” _

_ “Will it be goodbye, though?”  _

_ There’s hands cupping cheeks and sad smiles.  _

_ “I’m not sure.”  _

_ They part the next day, fingers touching till they’re too far apart. The day after that, Louis is somewhere in Oman. He cries only for an hour, and then moves on.  _

_ * _

Louis’ restless. He’s quit his job. He’s moved out his flat. He’s sold everything but a backpack full of necessary belongings and he’s at the airport. 

“Are there any seats on the next available flight out of Europe?” He asks quietly, passport and wallet ready. 

He gets a raised eyebrow and an odd look, but then he’s boarding a plane bound for Estonia and he’s slipping into an uneasy sleep. Why Estonia?

What has the universe got planned for him now?

-

He finds himself standing somewhere on the street, having looked at the motels and hostels and hotels. None of them feel right. He knows where to go, and he’s standing outside of the bed and breakfast he and Harry visited all those years ago. He’s so tired. 

He checks in, and stays on the balcony for four hours before heading inside and sleeping. 

-

He wakes up to eat a small breakfast and use the bathroom before he’s falling back asleep again. 

-

When he wakes up again, there’s a knock on the door. 

He takes his time getting up, and finds the lady who owns the place smiling up at him and apologising but asking if he wants any food, and if he’d like to stay another night if no one else turns up. He thanks her profusely before heading outside and walking aimlessly.

*

_ “Do you think we’ll still be together when we’re eighty, Lou?” _

_ Fingers are pressing along his spine, trailing down his sides. They’re somewhere in Thailand. Louis hums.  _

_ “I’m not sure, love. You know how unpredictable we both are.” _

_ “I think, if we ever part ways, we should go back to Estonia when we’re ready to meet again, if ever we are.” It’s slightly hesitant, like Harry really doesn’t want to think about them ever parting ways, but always knows it’s a possibility. They’re not dim. Anything can happen. _

_ “I think that sounds lovely.” _

_ “I love you, Lou.” _

_ “I love you, Harry.” _

_ * _

He doesn’t know where he is, but he’s freezing and crying and he’d forgotten all about that particular memory. Does he want Harry back in his life? Has he finished this course of his life and now he needs to start another one, back with Harry? Had it always been  _ Harry?  _ Were they simply growing and changing and loving and learning before they were ready to join their souls again?

Louis stands up from the cold ground - he can’t remember sitting down, but, - and begins walking. He finds the bed and breakfast again, and something’s changed. His hearts beating too fast. The air is spiked with energy. He sucks in a breath and holds back a sob, tears welling in his eyes. 

He walks up to the door, and he just knows. How? Who knows. He pushes the door open, the little bell chiming. Harry turns and looks at him, a calm smile on his face. His face is sharper, his eyes brighter somehow, filled with emotion and experiences, and his hair is past his shoulders. Louis smiles, tears dripping down his face. 

The lady who owns the bed and breakfast is watching them, but she’s not there in their minds. She watches and they gravitate towards each other, arms lifted and fingers reaching for each other. She doesn’t understand, but she knows that this is something extremely emotional and unbelievable. She’s crying, too, as the men entwine their fingers and stare at each other, smiling. 

They press their foreheads together and simply breathe. 

  
_ change of heart _

**Author's Note:**

> there is so much in between the lines but their full story would take me an eternity to write.


End file.
